By Any Other Name, Would He Smell As Sweet?
by Cellobrate
Summary: Uses an OC, Maira Jeevas. MelloxMaira. Rated T for coarse language and theme.


_**By Any Other Name, Would He Smell As Sweet?**_

_**Chapter 1- Matt and the China Collection**_

_**A/N. I understand that I portrayed Matt and Mello somewhat… kinked up. But I just had to make Matt say 'bang some chick' at some point. Either him or Mello, and if Mello said it, Maira (OC) would have kicked his ass out the door.**_

_**If I owned Death Note, Misa would be dead, Kira would be harmless, and Mello would be my husband. So no, I do not own Death Note.**_

_**So, let's begin. Reviews=Happiness.**_

_**άϊЅђЇτЄЯΰ άίмЄξ**_

•¤§¤•¤§¤•¤§¤•¤§¤•¤§¤•¤§¤•¤§¤•¤§¤•¤§¤•¤§¤•¤§¤•¤§¤•¤§¤•¤§¤•¤§¤•¤§¤•¤§¤•¤§¤•¤§¤•¤§¤•¤§¤•

Maira Jeevas sat on the living room couch, embraced lovingly by her two-year boyfriend Mello, twirling a pen in her hand absentmindedly.

Mello chuckled, smiling at her. "You know how you're sitting right now? That's kino of how I envision Kira when he's bored."

"Are you trying to say I'm Kira? If so, I take offense to that."

"No, I mean, look at you. Twirling that pen and zoning out like your thinking of who to write next in your Death Note."

Maira smiled, finally understanding Mello's point. "I got'cha. But I don't have a Death Note. Those don't just fall out of the sky, you—"

She was cut short just as a random black notebook hit her in the side of her head. She picked it up and looked at it; it didn't say 'Death Note' on the top, but '70 Page Single Subject.'

"Matt, what the hell is wrong with you?" Maira didn't have to turn around to know who it was: her stupid little brother, Matt Jeevas.

"How about you shut up and listen to me. Haruhi just called. He wants you to write a paper on music theory or something, then compose two songs for a string… quartet? Or was it quintet? Anyway, they should be like, classical. Modeled after that 1812 song. Oh, and it's due on his desk a week from Tuesday for reproduction and distribution."

Maira slammed the notebook down on the sofa, them threw her head back in frustration. "What the hell! I don't want to write any more damned songs! I'm supposed to be performing them, dammit!" She turned to Mello. "Mel, do you know how long it's been since I performed last? _Three months._ And that was the end of my tour! Can you believe that? I freakin' hate this job!"

Mello rubbed her arm reassuringly, trying hard to calm the redhead down. "Hey, hey. Don't be like that," he purred soothingly. "Think positive, a'right?"

"Who the hell are you to say 'think positive?'" Maira snapped.

"Okay! On another note!" Matt tried to change the subject to avoid further argument. Being overly headstrong individuals, fights between Mello and Maira could get nasty, and fast. "So this girl Naomi wants to come over tonight. Will you two leave while I get it on? Go to a love hotel or something. Plenty a' those here in Vegas."

Maira glared at her brother, disgusted. "Matt, are you out of your mind?"

"Look, I just wanna bang some chick tonight. Just this once."

"No! Matt, I will not have yet _another_ cheap whore in my house! I'll fuck you myself if it'll shut you up! God damn, I hate this house!"

Matt crossed his arms and smirked. "Maira, Naomi isn't a whore. She's a _real woman._"

Maira stood up, now completely infuriated. "Oh, really, Matt? That's what you said about the _last_ girl! Remember Maka?"

"How do you know Maka's a whore?"

"Because I saw her last week!"

"Where did you see _her?_"

"_In_ the _whorehouse!_"

"What were you doing in a whorewhouse?"

_"Looking for YOU!"_

Matt was suddently silent, unable to counter Maira's insult. Mello… well, Mello _laughed._ Yes, Mello laughed at Matt.

"You know, that laugh made you sound really gay," said a now thoroughly pissed Matt.

Mello smirked. "Well, at least I can prove that I'm not." He braced himself to be able to run off quickly. Smart—Matt, sure enough, ran after him, chasing him at top-speed down the hallway. Maira sat down and waited for their return, all the while listening to the string of insults they threw at each other.

"God damn, you fight like a girl!"

"God damn, you _look_ like a girl!"

"You sure you don't dye your hair, _dreadhead?_"

"I could say the same to you, blondie!"

"If you'd like to have those goggles of yours up your ass, keep talking!"

"I'm sure Maira gives you lots of practice with that, eh?"

"Hey, at least I can go steady, unlike _some people!_"

"It gives me _experience_ with many types of women."

"If you mean experience as a man whore with cheap street hoes, then sure."

"They're not cheap. I pay good money for those girls."

"You just dug your own grave, my friend."

"What's that supposed to—"

_Crash._

"Matt? Mello? Was that my china collection?

~*~

…_to be continued…_


End file.
